The Phoenix was nice enough, but she knew where Theo lived, where he had grown up. The Clairmonts came from old money, and the mayor’s current house sat on one of the ritziest streets in Northfield.
There was no way she was going to let him in to judge her apartment or, worse, her life. He’d have to get in line for that. “Stop following me. I said I'm fine. Go home. I'm not sleeping with you,” she tossed at him just for the shock value.
Theo’s eyes widened the tiniest bit, and she wanted to high-five herself for getting a reaction. At least she wasn’t a ghost now.
“I’m walking you to your door. I realize you're not used to this type of behavior, but that's what gentlemen do.” He reached for her key, covering her hand with his big, warm palm before unlocking the door and pushing it open.
She slipped past him before he could see inside and closed it until she was peering out behind a crack. Theo stood just outside her doorway, tall, remote, and powerful in the dim hallway light.
Even without light, she knew his eyes were back to a cool, assessing blue. A shiver made its way up her spine. Her best defense was always a strong offense.
“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Mayor. I’d invite you in for a drink, but I don’t have any warm milk.”
“I’d rather not take a chance of it being thrown on me.” He looked pointedly down at the amber stain on his white shirt and turned to leave.
“I’m sure you have more exciting things to do, anyway, like organize your sock drawer,” she said to his back, faintly ashamed of the utterly limp trash talk. She could do so much better when she had her wits about her.
“More like alphabetizing my books,” Theo called back. It was terrible timing because he had already started down the stairs, his steps solid and confident, taking the last word with him.
Yeah, she would never, ever work for that asshole.
Chapter Three
As the mayorof a small town, Theo was used to dealing with people from all walks of life. He prided himself on being logical and reasoned, no matter what the people of Northfield threw at him.
When Mrs. Slaughter shouted obscenities about his “bullshit liberal progressive agenda” during town hall meetings, it didn’t rattle him at all. Leanne Forrester liked to send around petitions to change the street names to Marvel superheroes every few months. Even the town gossip about his dating life didn’t bother him much.
Northfield had quirky people just like any other town, but he took it all in stride and dealt with everything his job threw at him in the only way he knew how: with order and structure, and he loved every minute of it.
Hell, even the publicity that came along with being the mayor of a small town was a small tradeoff for the satisfaction he felt in serving Northfield.
But Amber Hart tested his patience. She always had. The sight of her splayed out on the bar, laughing, her wet shirt clinging to the round curves of her breasts in that pink lace bra,played on repeat in his head. She had thrown a drink on him, for chrissakes.
Part of him wanted to laugh it off, to chalk it up to another crazy Amber antic, but another, deeper part of him couldn’t shake off the concern. From the first time he saw her, he’d felt like he was in the eye of a hurricane, and yet he couldn’t help the surge of protectiveness he had always felt for her.
He hoped like hell that no one saw the drink-throwing incident because it was exactly the kind of thing that would blow up on the town’s Facebook page. Events like that could tank his chance at reelection and make either one of them the subject of town gossip.
Logically, he knew he should distance himself from her before he was dragged into her whirlwind, but here he was, sitting in her parking lot to make sure she got inside safely.
Theo thought about the intimate moment he had witnessed between Amber and her boyfriend. John Rossi, or Johnny as the Northfield Fire Department knew him. Theo was familiar with Johnny, and most of the fire department, from community outreach events and various fundraisers they attended, although he hadn’t been aware Amber was dating him. It shouldn’t matter. Just like Neal’s comment about her sleeping around shouldn’t have stirred an undercurrent of irritation in him.
Yet for all the outrageous behavior she had shown that evening, Theo couldn’t shake the image of Amber standing alone in the parking lot. She was a petite woman to begin with, but she had seemed even smaller standing alone in the empty space.
When she had closed her eyes, utter exhaustion had washed over her and arrested him. It had happened so quickly, her delicate features dazzling enough to a man, had softened until she looked lost for a moment. Tired and lost like that night all those years ago. His phone rang, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Theo, your grandma’s having a rough night.” Lucille, the night nurse, greeted him. Since Georgina Clairmont’s breast cancer diagnosis, Theo had hired her to stay with his grandmother at night, first as a nurse when the chemo made her sick, and now as a companion. Theo's heart sank.
“Is she still awake?” After his parents’ passing, Theo’s grandmother had never fully recovered. The grief of losing her son and daughter-in-law had ravaged her. A breast cancer diagnosis last year had further sidelined her. Theo and his three siblings spent as much time as they could with her, and Lucille took over when they couldn’t be there.
“Yes, she’s playing the piano right now.”
Theo knew what that meant. Georgina, or Georgie, as they called her since she detested being called something so mundane as grandma, was a renowned concert pianist, but now she only played when she couldn’t sleep. She and Theo’s grandfather had traveled the world for her performances. Even after having children, his grandparents had shared their love of music and traveled often as an extended family. By the time Theo was eight, he had visited most of the continents. Theo liked to think that experiencing so many diverse cultures shaped his passion for public service. One couldn’t see the world and not feel empathy and compassion for the human experience.
“I’ll be right over.” On impulse, he stopped at a diner, picking up Georgie’s favorite treat—a strawberry milkshake—before heading to his childhood home. Georgie had never played favorites, but Theo had always had a special bond with her, which is why she always called him first. She was funny and still sharp as a tack, but being sick over the last year had worn her down and he was worried.
The elegant house sat just outside suburban Northfield. A large iron gate opened automatically as hedrove up. He parked next to the fountain and took the steps up into the foyer of the home he had grown up in. He remembered how he used to play hide and seek with his brothers and sister in the rooms, and the laughter that had filled the house.
Lucille met him in the living room with a teal bathrobe wound around her stout body, orange curlers in her wiry hair, and a stubborn look on her face. “She’ll be mad I called you, but I don’t care. That woman needs to rest.”
